


Mosaic

by siriuslywritten



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU - Titanic, Aftercare, Art, Bath Sex, Bathroom Sex, Bathtubs, Blow Jobs, Champagne, Daddy Kink, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Gentleness, Hand Job, Lets face it they're constantly in a fight as to who doms, Love Bites, M/M, Masturbation, One Night Stands, One Shot Collection, RMS Titanic, Rough Sex, Stranger Sex, Strangers to Lovers, Uniform Kink, Voyeurism, daddy Sirius, i guess?, ish?, lycanthropy, wolfstar, wolfstarbucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-03-29 22:48:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19029532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuslywritten/pseuds/siriuslywritten
Summary: Smut. A series of one-shots for Wolfstar. Challenge is 350 words for each. Welp.





	1. Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Eh, sometimes you gotta get Remus’ wild side out, ya know?

They wrenched back the tapestry, practically falling into the passageway. Then-

_Smack._

Remus’ hand collided with the side of Sirius’ face, and he snarled, shoving Remus against the wall. They looked at each other, panting. 

It was always like this, just before the full moon; Remus was full of rage and tension, that pure, _feral_ energy. They fucked everywhere and anywhere, whenever they could, bodies heaving against each other, sweat mingling. Sirius could be rough and filthy, and Remus would fight back with equal measure. 

Sirius couldn’t lie. _He loved it_. Loved the bearing of teeth and the feeling of fingernails digging into skin, raking hot red lines across it. Loved the way Remus would look at him, hazel eyes now turned yellow. Loved the musk that clung to Remus’ pores, driving him wild. 

They were surging into each other, lips and teeth clashing. Hands roamed. Remus bit down hard on his lip and Sirius hissed in pain, tasting that familiar metallic tang of blood. He pulled back.

“Behave,” Sirius spat, grabbing Remus’ jaw. His fingers pressed hard into the skin. 

“What, or you’ll fuck me, will you?” asked Remus harshly. 

“Was going to do that anyway.” 

Sirius’ hand stayed on Remus’ jaw as the other sought his belt buckle. With practiced ease, Sirius dipped his hand into Remus’ trousers, palming him through the fabric of his boxers. Remus let out an unintentional whine and Sirius chuckled bitterly, finally releasing his jaw. Sirius squeezed hard, then pushed his hand into Remus’ boxers, no pretence at gentleness. 

He was slick with precome. Sirius wrapped his hand around Remus’ cock. Remus groaned, throwing his head back against the wall and exposing his neck, embroidered with those telltale scars. Sirius leant in as he worked his hand from base to tip, biting hard on the soft flesh before him. Bright red marks erupted from under his mouth, snaking their way up Remus’ scars like flowers on a vine. His pace was uncompromising, nails raking against Remus’ rigid cock. 

“No,” Sirius grunted, smacking Remus’ hands away from the waistband of his jeans. “ _Not yet._ ” 


	2. Sweat

Remus’ lips lingered behind Sirius’ ear, against his sweat-soaked hairline. It was the height of summer, and they were pressed into Remus’ tiny single bed. The room was a haze of late afternoon sun and cigarette smoke, clothes littering the floor.  
 ****

“That was amazing,” Remus breathed into Sirius’ ear. His hands brushed tenderly over Sirius’ shoulders and back, as the pace of his breath began to return to normal. 

They’d been lying there, listening to records, relishing the fact they were _back._ Remus had returned from another mission with the werewolves, and Sirius from a stake out. There’d been no fight when Remus let his hand trail down Sirius’ body, threading through the coarse black hair. The look in his eyes had said _please, let me be human. Let me regain control._

So, Sirius had let him. It had been tender, not rushed. Lots of slow movements and languid tongues, foregoing the usual fight for dominance. Gentle wasn’t what they usually did, wasn’t their _thing_. They liked hard and fast, filthy fantasies and dirty mouths. 

But when Remus was inside him, thrusting slowly and kissing his spine, Sirius had given himself over to it. Remus had stretched an arm round him to caress his cock, straining and hard. The feel of Remus’ hands on him, and thick dick spreading him open, pressing against his prostate, had sent Sirius careening over the edge with a choked gasp. Then Remus’ control had slipped, and he’d given in too. 

Now, Remus flipped him over, brushing Sirius’ hair back from his face with his fingers. He kissed his way along his collarbones, his sternum, tongue mingling with the sticky white cum that coated Sirius’ stomach. And if it weren’t for the fact they’d only just finished, Sirius would be hard again at that. 

Sirius would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy this, the way Remus moved his pliable limbs, ran his hands over his taught back, down his heaving chest. _Let me take care of you_ , the gestures said. 

“Thank you,” Remus breathed against his lips. 

“For what?” 

“You know what.” 


	3. Daddy

“Beg me again.” 

“Please… _Daddy._ ” 

_It had always been his kink_ , and Remus knew it. That’s why it wasn’t submission in Remus’ voice, but _challenge_. Sirius felt drunk on it. Then again, they’re both drunk, and he shouldn’t be here, _he should not be here_ in Remus’ pokey little flat. They’d ended things when the war had become too much, when they’d become consumed with the sheer fight for survival. But they’d run into each other in the Leaky Cauldron, and one thing had led to another and now…

Remus looked up at him from where he knelt between Sirius’ splayed legs. His hands roamed across Sirius’ thighs, leaning down to take Sirius in his mouth. And Sirius _knew_ that eye contact was designed to drive him crazy. 

Remus started slow. He ran his tongue up Sirius’ shaft, swirling the tip around the head and sending shockwaves through him. 

“Fuck,” Sirius gasped.

Sirius’ curse seemed to spur him on, and Remus worked his mouth harder, increasing the pressure and flicking his tongue across the sensitive tip of Sirius’ cock. Sirius could barely cope, crying out because it had been too long since they’d been like this, _intimate._ It was exquisite. He felt Remus’ hand cup his balls, squeeze just tight enough for a hint of pain to mingle with the pleasure. Mouth and hand were on him now, Remus’ wrist flicking in that expert way that made Sirius’ eyes roll back in his head. It was too much, too good, too perfect and Sirius thought he might die right then and there, with Remus’ mouth wrapped round his thick, hard cock, saliva mingling with pre-come, hot and wet and sticky. 

Then the climax seemed to hit him like a freight train, a surge of electricity. White spots danced across Sirius’ vision as he came, choking out something that sounded vaguely like _Remus_.

Then, there is was again. That lilt, that lift at the end of his question that made Sirius dead certain that the only one getting fucked at the end of this was him. 

“Good enough for you, _Daddy_?” 


	4. Sit

“For fuck’s sake, Padfoot,” James heard Remus whisper, “stay still.” 

“Make me,” Sirius whispered back. 

They hadn’t heard him come in. There was a party going on in the Gryffindor common room, and the music was loud, even in their top-floor dorm. They didn’t know James was watching Remus work his hand up and down Sirius’ hard, throbbing cock, until-

“Jesus, Prongs!” Sirius yelped, and Remus shot off the bed. They looked like deer in the headlights, which James had to admit was a little ironic. 

“What, can’t I watch?” James asked, raising his eyebrows as he lifted his beer to his lips. His eyes stayed locked on Sirius’, but he heard Remus gasp slightly.

Something in the air shifted then, and Sirius stilled from where he was trying to pull his boxers back up over his erection. 

“Join in, if you want,” Sirius raised his eyebrows in return. 

“Nah, watching’s more my thing.” 

Sirius watched him unbuckle his belt.

“Had to listen to you boning all year, might as well get the full show. That is,” James paused, his eyes twinkling as he palmed himself over his boxers, “unless you don’t want me to?” 

“Sit, Potter.” 

This time is was Remus who had spoken. James obeyed, settling on his bed with his legs splayed, eyes hungry. Remus climbed back onto the bed, hands roaming over Sirius’ abs, then lower until he was gripping him tight, just how Sirius liked it. Remus swiped his thumb over Sirius’ slit, and Sirius felt giddy with pleasure, relishing the twist of Remus’ wrist. _God_ , it was good. Sirius heard James moan, glancing over to see him with one hand tight around his cock. As if that didn’t push him over the edge, the sight of James with one hand working furiously at his huge dick. 

Then, Sirius was finished too quickly, thick ropes of cum covering his stomach and Remus’ hand. He squeezed his eyes shut as Remus stroked him through, opening them only when he heard a growl in the back of James’ throat, a name choked as he came. 

“ _Padfoot.”_


	5. Art

“This is so embarrassing.” 

“No, it’s not!”

“Yes, it is,” Remus repeated, “it’s embarrassing.” 

“C’mon, Moony,” Sirius grinned. “Let me have this.” 

The two of them were holed up in 12, Grimmauld Place, snow falling outside the window and not another soul around. They were in Sirius’ bedroom - still adorned, after all these years, with those Muggle pictures of motorbikes and scantily-clad girls, their stiff faces faded. Remus was draped across the bed, a rich red flush in his cheeks and one hand awkwardly around his hard cock.

“Relax,” Sirius said soothingly. He shifted in his chair, trying to settle the sketchpad onto his lap over his equally-throbbing prick. “There’s no one else here but us, Moony, and you look utterly, utterly beautiful.”

Remus capitulated. He avoided Sirius’ eye as he slowly worked at his cock. His fingers danced lightly up-and-down the shaft at first, pulling at the tip before reaching to massage his balls. He rolled his head from one side to the other, his neck cracking, auburn hair catching the light.

Sirius let out a grunt, and his charcoal flew across the page. He could feel his hands shaking as he indulged in this exercise in self-control, wanting to cast aside this _art_ in favour of the masterpiece before him. Remus’ head was thrown back, lips ever-so-slightly parted in pleasure. He looked like _Adonis_ , Sirius thought, angular, _chiselled._ He looked _perfect._

Remus’ bicep rippled as he moved faster. He was confident now, eyes flying open to meet Sirius’ lust-filled gaze. He grinned lazily, licking his lips as he began to twist his wrist just-so. Then-

“Fuck, Pads,” Remus gasped, bucking into his own hand. He shut his eyes tight, mouth gaping. Sweat glistened on the top of his skin, and Sirius longed to run his tongue up the curve of his neck and along his jaw. 

He was exquisite, _miraculous_. Giving in, Sirius cast aside the sketchbook and charcoal, the latter breaking in half as it hit the ground. He strode towards the bed - towards that masterpiece, _towards Remus_. 


	6. Uniform

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is way over 350, but I like it too much to edit it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the lovely Jencala, punkysirius, and jennandblitz... because I couldn't quite leave the idea of the Titanic alone. 
> 
> Fortunately, there's no door/ugly necklace, though.

 

_Clang._

Buttons popped off the front of Remus’ white uniform, clattering onto the metal floor. He was pressed up against the wall in some pokey boiler room, deep in the ship’s hull. The hum of the engine reverberated along the metal walls, the bolts pressing into his back. But Remus didn’t care, only had thought for the tall, dark stranger in white tie and tails who was pushing his tongue into his mouth, dipping his hands into Remus’ trousers. 

Then, the stranger pulled back to look him in the eye, and Remus felt bereft without the heavy press of his body against him. If he didn’t have his hand over the bulge in Remus’ underwear, Remus might have appreciated quite how striking he was - dark, thick hair falling in curls and dripping into his grey eyes, dancing with silver flecks of lust; alabaster skin, silken and smooth, that rippled on his cheeks as he gave another arrogant grin. 

“I didn’t get your name,” the man said, stilling his hands only slightly. His voice was softer than Remus had expected, mellifluous and full. 

“R-remus,” he stuttered, the word giving way to a groan as his companion began to dance his fingers along Remus’ already-hard cock. 

“You’re very pretty, Remus,” the man continued, pressing his lips to Remus’ pulse point and sucking lightly. “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?” 

Remus tried to speak, but only let out a whine from the back of his throat. He whimpered in delight as the man lifted his hand and caressed his cheek, letting his fingers trail down his neck until he wrapped his long, elegant fingers round Remus’ throat. The pressure was just enough to send a surge of electricity to his prick, and he bucked forward, straining and desperate. 

“I’ve been watching you, you know,” the man continued, and Remus felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he was drowning in the clear grey pools that gazed at him with such intensity. “Every night while I sit eating shit food and drinking shit wine, I think about taking you in this little white uniform, and bending you over a table in that dining room so I can fuck you in front of everyone.” 

Remus groaned at the thought of that, shutting his eyes. He felt the stranger shift, pressing his strong, powerful thigh between Remus’ and moving just slightly, so that white spots danced behind Remus’ eyelids. 

“I can think of a thousand-and-one things I’d like to do to you, but I suppose we don’t have much time, do we?” the man hummed, running his thumb over Remus’ lips before pushing it into his mouth. “But, it’d be desperately sad if this ship went down before I’d had a chance to go down on you, you know.” 

Before Remus could offer anything in response, the man dropped to his knees, eyes wild as he divested Remus of his trousers and boxers. He leant in without warm-up, taking almost the entirety of Remus’ thick, straining cock. The man’s eye’s flicked shut, and he hummed at the taste of salty precome and desire. Remus could hardly bear it when he saw the man reach down into his own suit trousers, rubbing furiously at his erection. 

Remus didn’t bother to stifle his moans; he decided that the background noise of the ship’s machinery was enough to cover them.He pushed his hips forward, feeling how the man took it completely. His tongue was swirling round Remus’ tip just-so; it was bliss, perfection, _everything._

It was over too quickly - Remus became unravelled, unmoored, floating into ecstasy as the man drank him down like he was food of the gods, like ambrosia. Remus thought he’d lost all his faculties, going boneless against the wall. The man stood and composed himself, clinical almost in the way he put himself to rights again. He smoothed down that luscious hair and straightened his bow tie. 

“Until next time, Remus,” he said with a grin, pecking Remus’ lips and moving toward the door. 

“Wait!” Remus croaked, composing himself just enough to grab the man’s arm before he snuck out of the boiler room. “Your n-name.” 

“Sirius Black,” came the reply, accompanied by a wicked grin. “And when you go to bed tonight, thinking about how I’ve just sucked you dry, I want you to remember it.” 


	7. Champagne

The bathroom was littered with the detritus of their evening: one bow tie on the towel rail and another on the edge of the sink, two pairs of suit trousers thrown over the chair in the corner, one white shirt hanging over the shower screen and the other on the floor. 

The hot water around him was delicious, Sirius thought, but with Remus wriggling in his lap, it was downright _sinful_. Sirius ran a finger down to the cleft of Remus’ arse, letting his fingernail drag lightly against the skin. He could feel the other man quivering, and fingered at Remus’ hole, pushing in just to the first knuckle. Remus let out a growl, canting his hips back in an attempt to push Sirius’ finger further.

“Easy, Remus,” Sirius whispered, smirking.

“Don’t tease,” Remus said breathlessly, eyes slipping closed as Sirius pushed his finger inside him more, pressing against him in just the right way. “You know I hate it when you tease.” 

“Yeah, and I’ve had to pretend to like all of the cunts at your publishing house all evening. Teasing you is my reward.”

Sirius stilled his hand, and moved it away, much to Remus’ chagrin. He reached out of the bathtub for the bottle of champagne they’d pulled from the fridge on their way from the front door to the bathroom. He lifted it to his lips, letting the golden liquid trickle down his chin and onto his bare chest, mingling with the bath water. He relished the way Remus watched him, mouth slightly open. He was hard already, thanks to Sirius’ ministrations, and his cock bobbed just below the surface of the water. 

“Think of all the things I could do to you with this bottle,” Sirius muttered, raising his eyebrows as he offered the bottle to Remus. 

“What, you’re not up to scratch? Even your dick’s not as much of a health-and-safety violation as a glass bottle,” Remus replied with an equal raise of the eyebrow as he took the champagne and drank. Sirius let out a dirty, throaty laugh at that, enamoured by the fact that Remus still had the capacity for wit when he was red-faced and chomping at the bit. 

“You little shit,” Sirius chuckled darkly, and grabbed Remus’ hips, moving him towards his throbbing, straining cock. 

Remus sank down onto him, and Sirius let his self-control slip, uttering a throaty _fuck_. Remus had taken him completely, right to the hilt, and it was _ecstasy_. Sirius didn’t know what he loved more: fucking Remus, or being fucked by him. The feel of his hole tight around his prick was phenomenal; it felt like they were as they should be, tied together in some kind of perfect dance. Remus met Sirius’ thrusts, matching his pace and wrapping his arms around the back of Sirius’ neck. He leant in, whispering to Sirius - dirty, filthy, sordid nothings that made Sirius come alive.

And then Remus was coming, crying out and biting down on the soft skin over Sirius’ clavicle. That sound, and that sweet clench around his cock as Remus came in thick, heavy spurts, sent Sirius over the edge. He thrusted upwards, emptying himself into Remus as they pressed against each other. 

They stayed there until the water was cool, and the candles had burnt out. Skin to skin, membrane upon membrane, boneless and one body, they passed the champagne bottle back and forth. 


	8. Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the lovely Jencala, on her birthday.

“What the fuck are you wearing?”  
 ****

“What does it look like I’m wearing?” 

“A party hat… but very much not on your head.” 

“Well, it’s on one kind of head, isn’t it?” Sirius winked. He was standing in the doorway of their bedroom, the early morning light flooding through the windows promising a beautiful spring day. His hair was pulled back from his face, his days-old beard crinkled as he offered Remus a wide, self-confident smile. 

“You’re incorrigible,” chuckled Remus, rolling over onto his back and stretching. His shoulders clicked as he did so, and he let out a satisfied sigh. 

“Well,” Sirius said slowly, crossing over to the bed and depositing the coffee on the bedside table, “I thought, _seeing as it’s your birthday_ , you might like a present or two.” 

Remus glanced down at Sirius’ already hard cock, barely sheathed by the cardboard party hat he had perched on the end of it. The sight of it, of _him_ , with all that black artistry against alabaster skin sent a flush creeping up Remus’ chest and onto his neck, glowing behind the fair dapple of stubble drizzled across his cheeks. 

“C’mere,” murmured Remus, snaking his hand round to the back of Sirius’ thigh, pulling him toward the bed. Sirius obliged. The two of them tangled themselves together, limbs lacing and lips meeting in slow, languid kisses. In their embrace, Sirius’ party hat was crumpled, slipping from between them and down to the floor. 

After a while, Sirius pulled back, gazing with adoration into Remus’ amber eyes. He kissed the end of his nose, then his lips, then the line of his jaw where that silvery scar ran like a line of ever-present moonlight. Sirius kissed down the soft skin that stretched over Remus’ sternum, tallying each and every scar as though it were the first time. But it wasn’t the first time — Sirius knew this body better than his own, knew the sharp angles and gentle curves that were so very _Remus._ He was all sinews and shadows, light and dark cast in relief on every inch of his taut body. Sirius wanted to unravel him, wanted to pull apart the tension in Remus’ bones, coiled like a spring. 

Reaching his destination, Sirius pressed his lips softly against the tip of Remus’ now-hard prick, savouring the salty taste of pre-come that glistened across his lips. He ran the flat of his tongue up the shaft, relishing how Remus’ thighs tensed and his cock jumped involuntarily against Sirius’ mouth. It was too perfect, too delectable not to take into his mouth and swirl his tongue around. 

“ _Pads_ ,” Remus uttered, throwing his head back and revealing the long column of his throat. Sirius was torn between continuing with his ministrations and abandoning Remus’ wanting cock in favour of biting hard and sharp down upon all that exposed flesh. But then his hand found the soft skin of Remus’ balls, and he couldn’t help but throw himself into his task with further abandon. 

Sirius _loved_ this. It was possibly his favourite thing, to suck Remus off so that he was breathless and boneless and coming with Sirius’ name on his lips and that beautiful, perfect sheen of pleasure across his body. Remus seemed to hum with it, vibrate with ecstasy as Sirius’ finger found his tight hole and pressed in, gently massaging him in just the way he liked.

“ _Sirius,_ ” Remus moaned.

Sirius glanced up, just as Remus looked down, and amber met grey. It was a moment of infinity, of filthy, _perfect_ infinity, where time and the moon and the war seemed just to _stop_. They were suspended, momentarily, in the eye of the storm, an exquisite _danse macabre_  that careened ever closer to the end. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I made a GREAT playlist, and had to put it to some kind of use. You can find it  
> [here](https://stonecoldhedwig.tumblr.com/post/185247915219/i-finished-my-wolfstar-playlist-and-it-is).


End file.
